A Blend of Royalty
by Quan471
Summary: Zuko wants a break from being Fire Lord, and Iroh is his first pick for a replacement. Hilarity ensues as the peaceful tea tycoon tries to rule the Fire Nation for a day. Enjoy and thanks for reading!


**My 2nd fanfic. Hope you enjoy it, and please review. Setting is about 5 months after the final scene of Avatar:The Last Airbender, after peace has returned. The other nations don't fully trust the Fire Nation, but negotiations are being carried out. Quan away~!**

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The teashop had just been closed and customers were trickling out, discussing the latest weather, sports, and whether or not the tea shop owner was the tea god's son sent to liberate them all from the hold of bad-tasting beverages. The air had a peaceful, festive feeling, and the satisfied customers of the Jasmine Dragon had no idea about the argument going on in the back room.

"What do you mean you won't replace me, Uncle?" Zuko exclaimed. Iroh leaned back in his chair. He had had a busy day handling his shop, and was just sitting down to a strong cup of mint tea when his nephew had paid him a surprise visit. Iroh had been delighted at first, but, after he had realized that Zuko had come for official matters, he had grown more serious. "I mean what I said. You are the Fire Lord. I am just a lowly teashop owner trying to please his customers. There is no way I can take over the throne, even for a day."

Zuko sighed. He had hoped to visit with Mai and her family in their vacation home on Ember Island, and his uncle was the logical choice for a regent. After all, there was no one Zuko trusted as much as Iroh, and Iroh was even part of the royal family. But his uncle was a stone wall. "I am sorry Zuko, but I cannot act on your every whim. I thought I taught you responsibility when I made you a share-holder of the teashop."

Zuko had a sudden idea. "I AM a share-holder. What did you say I paid for? Oh, yes. The cups and tea pots." Iroh could see where this was leading. "Now, nephew, I-"Zuko went on eagerly. "So, I own those, and I could sell them if a certain person doesn't become Fire Lord for a few days."

Iroh frowned. "You shouldn't stay around those courtiers, they are teaching you to be a manipulative tyrant like your father. Very well, I shall be your regent for a few days, but they had better serve mint tea at the Palace, to make up for this cup that's gone cold while we were talking." Zuko smiled. "Get to bed now, old man, you leave first thing tomorrow morning. I'm staying in an inn nearby, and I'll make sure you get up on time. Sleep well!" With that, Zuko retreated out the door, satisfied that he could enjoy a peaceful vacation while his uncle ran the Fire Nation. Iroh merely grunted and went up stairs to get ready for bed. What had he gotten himself into?

The next morning, Iroh was at the pier waiting for Zuko. The reek of half-dead fish had wafted down from the markets and hung over the pier like a blanket. He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his buttocks. He had purposely come early, if only to show up his nephew, who was a notorious late sleeper.

He had gone to sleep last night berating himself for ever giving Zuko a partnership. It had been a gesture of kindness, as the boy had needed funding, and that was the only way he was going to make honest money without drawing attention to himself, or screwing it up.

Zuko arrived a few minutes later, with disheveled hair and clothes, and still yawning. At the Palace, he had servants to comb his hair and change his clothes. Traveling anonymously, he kept himself reasonably tidy, with a degree of difficulty. "Ehh, Uncle, I thought you would be here. Our ship is over there." He gestured in a vague direction and set off. Iroh shook his head and trailed after him. He had packed only the essentials (3 pairs of underwear, a spare robe, and a few packets of tea) and they hung in a pack over his shoulder.

Zuko stopped abruptly. A small sloop rolled lazily over the waves as her still-drunk crewmen staggered along the deck, trying to get the ship shipshape while clutching bottles of rum and random animal drippings to their chests. A tattered sail fluttered in the wind around them. It looked as if it would fall apart any second. The faded painting on her side named her as the "Furious Flyer". Iroh caught up and stared. "THIS is the ship you chartered? Nephew, you are a bigger idiot than you seem."

Zuko looked at him, insulted. "Well, they were the only ones who'd take us. And they didn't ask for that much." Iroh sighed. "Well, we better make it there in one piece." With a last, dubious stare at the vessel, he crossed the gangplank and boarded.


End file.
